LOCUM TENENS, OR HOLIDAYS WITH PAY
By BERNARD CROFT
THE advertisements for the ideal 'busman's holiday have already begun to make their annual appearance. In his brief moments of spare time the parson's thoughts are flying ahead, over the intervening months, to the summer holiday—and no man apparently is more fond of a 'busman's holiday than the clergyman.
" House for duty, all August. One church, S. Devon. Tennis, golf, garden-produce, two mins. sea, maids left." So run the attractive advertisement paragraphs in the church newspapers from now until the end of summer. Week by week incumbents describe their irresistible parishes, set in their healthy and convenient situations, their lovely churches, their comfortable vicarage houses with delightful gardens ; all in the hope of beguiling some fellow cleric to come forward and hold the fort whilst (as the wording of the advertisement would often make us understand) the unhappy incumbent tears himself away from home.
To read the descriptions of such blessed plots is surely for many a parson to be cast into dire despondency at the reflection how completely unattractive a picture the descrip- tion of his own would make. For presumably only those whose lot has fallen in a fair ground can hope to allure a locum for the weeks of the annual summer holiday. Obviously enough, any mention of the parish church with its three daughter missions (typical enough in the industrial North), its adjacent pit-heads and slag heaps, its railway sidings running by the vicarage, its long lines of Industrial Revolution period houses—such parishes as these must rely upon the friendly help of neighbours if the single-handed parish priest is to get away at all.
The parson may take his annual holiday in one of several ways. He may (despite disquieting thoughts of flying false colours or even of being a bit of a dog) have a real holiday with not so much as an inch depth of clerical collar round his neck, or even packed in the luggage. This for the happy minority. Or he may, following the via media policy, be temporary layman on weekday and don the collar for Sunday only. Or he may, as it would seem the majority do, " take a locum."
Be it noted in passing, that in either of the former cases mentioned not the least joy of the whole holiday will be that of occupying the unfamiliar pew in the nave instead of the more exalted stall in the chancel. Here the completely emancipated (i.e., he with the soft collar and red tie) will find the deepest joy of freedom, for with the wearing of the collar, even just for Sunday service, there is the ever-present danger of being impressed into service of some kind, if only to the extent of reading a lesson.
The joys of the locum are many. No doubt he will have his disappointments as do all who take up service in answer to advertisements. For instance, his idea of distaacz, or rather nearness, to the sea may differ from that of the advertiser. Light duty may prove to be, after all, a com- parative term.
But the chief joy will be the reflection that no initiative is demanded—the locum is there, as the tide implies, solely to hold on to the place. On arrival his chief ally will be the old (has any one ever known a young ?) verger who will be ever ready to supply information upon how they do things there—for, as every parson knows, there is not only the Use of Sarum or of the West, but in one way or another it may almost be said that every different parish has its own particular Use.
Whilst the congregation may be depleted by reason of parishioners being on holiday, to balance this there will very likely be present the disgruntled who absent themselves throughout the rest of the year owing to fancied or real grievances between themselves and their vicar or rector. In some directions, indeed, the locum may have to show a firm hand (always trying, specially on holiday), e.g., a parallel may be drawn between the proverbial cat and the mice and the vicar of the parish and the choirboys. For these, and others too, the locum-tenency may seem an opportunity for trying it on. At the same time, opportunity will be given to the locum to pick up hints for his own, and his own church's, benefit.
Needless to say, the writing of sermons will be no arduous holiday-task--a selection from stock for the appropriate Sundays of the Church's year will suffice. It may be that they will require a little alteration,—simpler language for a presumably simpler congregation, or vice versa. And a word of warning here for the English clergyman taking holiday duty in the sister church in Scotland. In large letters of red ink at the top of every sermon sheet should be inscribed, " For England read BRITAIN throughout "—and the same in Wales too, where nationalistic feelings may easily be offended even among good churchfolk.
But when all is said and done the paradox remains, the good locum tenens is the bad one.
The incumbent who returns home to find his flock weary of sitting under their temporary pastor—he it is who gets his full money's worth for his advertisement. Such a one, the story goes, returned home to his people, for whom he had secured the holiday services of a scholarly and highly- placed ecclesiastic, his heart full of misgivings as to the reception he would get after the undoubted feast of pearls. Rather diffidently he expressed his anxieties to an old dear of his congregation. She set all his doubts at rest—" Never you mind about that, Sir ; we'd as rather listen to the uneddicated any day."
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